Chapter 15. The Hope of England – The Treaty of Ghent
1525-1528; England
… Whereas most instant suit hath been made to your most Excellent Majesty…
on the behalf of the most noble and most kind princess Mary, Empress of Rome…
and the most gracious prince Christian, rightful King of Denmark, Norway, &c…
… for marriage to be had between Your Highness and his only son and heir…
the noble prince John of Denmark…
— Portion of Queen Mary’s Marriage Act (1527)
Music Accompaniment: Robin
Allegory for Marriage, Titian; c. 1530.
The capture of Emperor Charles V had Lodi had radically brought the Italian War of 1521 to a swift end. The imperial army in Italy had been vanquished—Burgundian knights, German
Landsknecht, Spanish
Tercios… all had labored under the imperial eagle and had saw themselves torn asunder by French arms with the loss of their sovereign. With Charles V imprisoned and transferred to France to await the terms that François would impose; it soon left the emperor’s allies to seek their own accommodations—most having little stomach in continuing war without further support from the emperor. Pope Pius, in the early months of 1525 made peace with France, dispensing with their imperial alliance in favor of a French one through the
Treaty of Piacenza. England’s regent, Catherine of Aragon, found England in a dire situation—some 20,000 troops were abroad; 5000 under the Earl of Surrey were in imperial service, having served primarily in the Low Countries under Henry of Nassau, while the main contingent of the English army—15,000 men, under the Earl of Oxford, had taken up their winter quarters at Calais following their attack upon northern France in the autumn of 1523. The emperor’s defeat left England’s troops in a delicate position; if the King of France desired, he would be capable of bringing full force against them—quite possibly even marauding the Pale of Calais. In a letter to the Earl of Oxford, the queen regent wrote that:
“If you believe there is little sense in holding a position which does us little good—then, even with my greatest regrets, I bow to your superior knowledge in this area. Do whatever possible to ensure our troops can return to England in good order; I shall pen a letter of my own, but I ask that you write most urgently to the king’s mother, Madame Louise…let it be known that we are willing to come to terms to end this odious war.”
There was great discomfit among the Earl of Oxford and other English commanders that their prowess and arms had been squandered in aiding the emperor’s ambitions in the folly of Italy. What interest did England have in such matters? What had England accomplished, beyond a ravaging of northern France? There were no spoils or treasures to calm the regular infantrymen. They had not even succeeded in seizing another city. It had been an empty campaign filled with empty promises. Though Oxford respected that the Catherine as regent had the right to determine the crown’s foreign policy, his letter to the queen regent bore a somewhat scathing tone:
“Madam—the king’s mother is agreeable that terms of peace should be sought and is dispatching one of her servants—a Jean-Joachim de Passano to parlay with you. I warn you that Madam Louise is adamant that any such terms for peace cannot be agreed upon unless England is willing to stand by the terms agreed at Noyon in 1516 and allow France to redeem Boulogne. Make peace now, and you risk losing what little England has earned in service to the cause of your nephew, the emperor. Please remember that English blood has been soiled in the cause of Imperial ambitions… and that the Englishmen deserve their recompense.” Though Oxford was not formally reprimanded for his bold letter to the queen, it did mark an end to his career—for the remainder of the regency, Catherine did not employ Oxford, and he soon retired to his estates.
Peace between England and France would be reached in the autumn of 1525 through the
Treaty of London, signed between Catherine of Aragon and Louise of Savoy on behalf of her son, King François—with François continuing to maintain interest in Italy, it was seen as prudent to break England away from the emperor. The terms of the treaty were not advantageous—England would be required to allow France to redeem Boulogne for £150,000, rather than the £500,000 stipulated in 1516. Though the sum would be of help to England, it was little compared to the expenses that England had endured since 1521.
“Though the queen once more secured peace for England,” An anonymous writer of the period wrote.
“There was discontent amongst the council—the war of 1521 was seen as another wasted folly; in the service of the emperor, rather than in service to England.” This left the imperial dominions to stand alone against France—with the emperor held in confinement at Saumur.
Portrait of a young Queen Mary, c. 19th Century. Recreation.
Queen Mary was rapidly growing up. By 1526, she was thirteen—no longer a little girl, but still under the tutelage of her mother—and on the cusp of womanhood. There remained only five years left of Queen Catherine’s regency, and one main question remained unanswered: who might the young queen marry? Would Catherine look abroad, or seek a match from among England’s greatest families? Though the war had occupied the mind of the queen regent, she had remained on the look out for a favorable match for the young queen. Queen Mary’s household expanded as she grew older—though Margaret Pole remained her governess and would continue to have influence over the domestic parts of the queen’s household, there also new additions: Agnes Howard, the Duchess of Norfolk, was named
Mistress of the Robes to attend to the queen’s growing collection of clothes and jewelry, while Eleanor Manners, the Countess of Rutland was named as
Chief Gentlewoman of the Privy Chamber. Both were older and experienced women—appointees placed into their position by the queen-regent. The young queen’s real friendships were with those girls who had been within her household as companions since birth: Anne Parr and Catherine Blount, who served as maids of honor to the queen. The young queen was also close to Blount’s brother, Charles—who had been made one of her grooms. The queen’s education also continued to evolve in the intervening years; lessons in French were given primarily by Jacqueline Estienne, a French noblewoman, who also provided lessons in etiquette and deportment. More and more time was given over to the practical lessons of government—taught by the Bishop of Rochester and supplemented by lessons from Thomas More that focused on Parliament, given his place as a former MP.
It was as she grew older that the queen’s personality finally began to be shown—and some of the first descriptions of her behavior can be traced to this time, not all of them glowing:
“The young queen possessed a fiery temper,” Jane Sackville, a courtier of the period wrote in her private journals.
“Many saw it as merely a sparkling inheritance from her father, the late king, who was also known for his great temper. Some believed it was due to her Spanish blood—and others, a mixture of both. But regardless, the queen was quick to rise to fury if she felt slighted or misused—and many gentlewomen suffered the sting of her hand against their cheek for minor offenses, such as combing her hair too roughly or lacing her dresses too tight. She was warm to those she loved and who enjoyed her favor—she was generous to those servants who had been with her since her youth; but she was not easily trusting of newcomers, and she often claimed that ‘Those I do not know, I cannot trust.’ Charming, vivacious, and witty—she smiled and laughed easily amongst those she was comfortable with, and even at a young age, she possessed an Englishwoman’s sense of humor, and could be bawdy with the best of her ladies.” A picture was increasingly painted of a queen that could be warm and charming, but in turns quick to anger and imperious—but what could one expect of a girl who had been queen since the day of her birth and treated as such her whole life?
“I have done my best,” Catherine of Aragon lamented in a letter to the Empress Mary.
“And perhaps that is enough; and perhaps it is not. I can be gladdened that the queen is well learned; she enjoys her studies and completes them without complaint. I can also say that I have given her an enriched look at our faith—and she cherishes it just as I do, and as her father had. But I deplore her tempers and increasing fits of fancy; she has not yet learned that being a queen is more than being obeyed—and that obeisance can be earned just as easily with honeyed words versus a fierce blow.” Little surprise that Catherine lamented such in a letter, for the young queen’s growth in years meant increased friction with a mother that was in some ways overbearing:
“You shall do well to remember that I am the mistress here, madam,” Mary stated during one vicious argument that ensued with her mother over her wish to replace some of the older members of her household with women that were closer to her in age.
“All that you hold is because of me, and me alone… were I to die tomorrow, all would be for naught.” Catherine, reduced to tears, could not help but retort:
“Better my daughter goes to the angels and the Saints, than reign one day as Athalia.” Mary herself wept from her mother’s speech and soon apologized—but such arguments and fights were not uncommon as Mary began to grow into adulthood and sought more independence within her own household.
Though there had not yet been any resolution to Queen Mary’s possible marriage, there were machinations to bring such a resolution about—with such desire beginning not in England, at the English court, but abroad—in the Low Countries. Empress Mary had always taken a keen interest in her niece and had been a prime supporter of a possible marriage between Mary and Prince Philip, while he lived. Mary herself still had no son—she had only two daughters, Isabella (b. 1521) and Maria (b. 1522). Though the empress was now forced to contend with the aftermath of her husband’s capture at Lodi, she still maintained an interest in English affairs, and her greatest desire was to help seek out a suitable husband for her niece. Things began to move towards a head in 1526, when the emperor’s sister, Isabella of Austria passed away. Isabella had been married to Christian II of Denmark—an overarching reformer who had found himself deposed from his throne in 1523. Christian and Isabella—along with their children, John, Dorothea, and Christina had been forced into exile in the Low Countries, where they were sheltered by their Habsburg relatives. Relations between the Danish royal couple and their imperial patrons were not always harmonious—Christian and Isabella both had interests in the growing reformation movement and had corresponded with Martin Luther. Upon Isabella’s death, Empress Mary took the Danish royal children into her own household—ostensibly to oversee their education, but also to ensure that they were raised as Catholics. Christian II, knowing his precarious situation and accepting that any hope of regaining his throne would depend upon the emperor, he agreed that the empress taking over their education was the best option. The three royal children came to reside with the empress at Coudenburg Palace and would join the nursery with their cousins Isabella and Maria. Mary adored her Danish nieces—but she grew especially close to Prince John; he filled a void in her life that had been increasingly lacking since the death of Prince Philip, and in all aspects the young Danish prince became her surrogate son.
Portrait of Prince John of Denmark, c. 1526.
It came as little surprise at the imperial court that the empress began to favor Prince John; it was even less of a surprise that the empress began calling upon the English ambassador to visit the nursery where the children were kept, lavishing great praise upon the young prince.
“The empress says that young Prince John is most prudent in his studies and grows stronger with each passing day.” The ambassador wrote in a letter to Catherine.
“The empress is preparing for a portrait to be painted of the young prince by Master Hans Holbein—she is hoping to send it to you and the queen in due course.” There was much to recommend the match to Queen Catherine—for one, the young Prince John was her great-nephew; though his father’s political situation remained precarious, his position in exile at least meant that the marriage would not drag England into a further alliance—while maintaining relations with Catherine’s family on the continent. After all, neither the emperor nor the empress showed much interest in aiding Christian II in his plots. Prince John’s father lacking a throne also meant that the young prince would be able to reside in England and live with the queen—he would have no commitments abroad, allowing him to stay in England. This was seen as beneficial to some: a young foreign prince, while not an Englishman, could certainly be groomed to be one—and might serve as a potent counterweight to the influence that Queen Catherine might have over her own daughter, even after the regency was terminated. After some time, Catherine signaled to her ambassador in the Low Countries that she would be willing to entertain ambassadors to bring about a formal betrothal between Queen Mary and Prince John.
The marriage treaty would be negotiated between Queen Catherine and the Empress Mary through intermediaries. Though Christian II was consulted, he was not viewed as an important player in the negotiations: given his delicate situation, he would be more than happy to see his son arranged into such an advantageous marriage by the empress. The first drafts of the marriage treaty were carried out in the Low Countries, in what would become known as the
Treaty of Ghent. It provided for the practical terms of the marriage, with the empress agreeing to provide money to pay for John’s eventual suite. Given John’s youth (he was nine—four years younger than the queen) it was agreed that the marriage would be scheduled for
1534—sometime after the prince’s sixteenth birthday; the queen would by then be twenty, nearly twenty-one. In some quarters, this was not ideal—it would mean another eight years before England had any hope of an heir, and some wondered of the young queen and her personal rule—how could they expect her to be constrained by a husband if she was given a chance to reign unimpeded, even if only for a few years? Others saw the prince’s youth as a benefit: he could be melded into the king they desired. Other portions of the treaty would involve John being provided with English teachers and tutors, and with his education to be finalized in England. It was agreed that the prince should travel to England in
1530 and complete the last years of his education there, given the position he would hold in that country.
Parliament also became involved in the marriage negotiations and was summoned in 1527 to put together an act of laws that could regulate the queen’s future marriage. This act became known as the
Act for the Marriage of Queen Mary to Prince John, or more commonly as
Queen Mary’s Marriage Act, which represented the English ratification of the marriage treaty. Under the terms of the treaty, Prince John would enjoy Mary’s titles and honors as
King of England for as long as the marriage was to last. All official documents would eventually be dated with the names of both sovereigns, and Parliament would be called jointly under the authority of both. The marriage act also provisioned that John could assist Mary in the governance of the realms, though most power would remain within the queen’s hands. This was not the ideal outcome for Catherine of Aragon—she had always sought that her daughter might be allowed to reign unimpeded, and that her future husband serve as a mere consort, but it was the reality of the situation: Catherine’s foreign policy had caused grave issues in England, and even her most ardent councilors had begun to tire of her petticoat government; yes—the queen would in due course come of age and reign too, but should she not be aided by her husband in this difficult task, lest England suffer under another generation of feminine tyranny? England would need a king, and it could not afford to wait another generation for one. Raising a king up alongside their queen seemed the best way to provide England with what it needed. Though Prince John was eventually to co-reign with the queen, the marriage act also placed stipulations upon him: it was agreed that only Englishmen should be appointed to political offices, nor would he have any claim to the crown should the queen predecease him. The marriage act also promised Prince John an annual income of some £3000, given his father’s impoverishment; to be composed of several manors and lands that resided within the royal estate: he would be granted a life interest, and such lands would return to the crown upon his death. Empress Mary sought to give whatever largesse she could for her nephew and leaned upon the Estates General to provide her nephew with an additional grant of £2000 per year—to be raised through a levy on several cities.
It is truly unknown what the young queen thought of her impending nuptials. When her ladies queried her over the possible marriage—as they often did, what with the possibilities throughout the years, she could only reply:
“I am told that I must marry, and marry I suppose I shall. If it shall be—it will be. Nihil admirari.” For the queen, it was simple: what would happen, would happen—and it would still be years before such a plan would come to fruition.